


Scale from One to Ten

by syrasynn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Fingerfucking, M/M, Patient!Cas, Role Playing, Smut, nurse!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrasynn/pseuds/syrasynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's a nurse, Castiel is one of his patients. </p><p>"They removed my appendix through my belly button."<br/>"They sure did. On a scale from one to ten, how is your pain?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Please forgive mistakes. Hope to update weekly, on Wednesdays. I don't plan on it being longer than 5 chapters, but we'll see.

Dean stretched, relishing the satisfying cracks in his back as he arched his spine. He was only an hour into his 12 hour shift and already he was itching for a beer and his lumpy sofa at home. Only an hour in and he had already been puked on, forcing him to change into a new pair of scrubs. Of course, Dean hadn't thought to bring an extra pair, so he was wearing the only available scrubs in the hospital on laundry day. Dean was very secure in his masculinity, thank you very much, but light pink just wasn't his color. He was just thankful they were actually men's scrubs. He knew he couldn't rock a low v-neck and tapered waist. Dean sighed and pulled up the schedule of his patients on his computer. He had a full house today, though thankfully nothing that looked like it could turn too sour.

Working in recovery was a vast improvement from Dean's last job in ICU. It was hard to keep a positive attitude in intensive care, when every time you turned around another one of your patients was dying. Recovery had Dean making sure surgical patients got their shit together enough to get the hell out of the hospital. Make sure they can eat, walk, and take a shit on their own, and they were pretty much ready to go. No long term patients, not as much dying. Most patients in Dean's area stayed for a few days, depending on what surgery they were recovering from. No one stayed longer than a week.

Dean checked the records for the patient they had wheeled in right at the beginning of his shift, noting the patient's name and surgery before heading off to his room. The guy was probably still sleeping off the anesthesia, but he might be an early riser. Best to offer the patients painkillers before they ask, instead of waiting to get an angry patient buzzing you later. Dean pushed the patient's half-closed door open after a cursory knock. To Dean's mild surprise, the patient was awake, and had his hospital gown pulled up to his chest, a finger edging along the bandage taped over his belly button.

"Mr. Novak, best you leave that alone."

Mr. Novak looked up and Dean took a minute to appreciate the full effect of piercing blue eyes, tousled hair and thick stubble on the man's face. People were not supposed to look so good after waking up from surgery. Of course, the image was marred a bit by the fact that the man wasn't wearing any underwear, removed for the surgery, no doubt, and was essentially lying there flashing his dangly bits at Dean. When the man made no move to lower his gown, and instead just tilted his head slightly to stare at Dean some more, Dean moved to the bed and pulled the blanket over the other man's junk. Poor son of bitch was probably still high as fuck on the anesthesia. It took some people longer than others to shake off the effects.

"They removed my appendix through my belly button."

Dean bent to examine the incision wounds, gently moving Mr. Novak's hand away from the bandage. The man's throat must have been killing him, with how raspy it came out. Dean made a mental note to check that the breathing apparatus that had been inserted down the man's throat hadn't torn anything when removed.

"They sure did. On a scale from one to ten, how is your pain?"

Goddamn Dean was tired of asking that question. Every day, every patient, scale of one to ten. Dean ran his finger along the edge of the bandage that covered the man's belly button, and moved to check the other two small incisions on the left side of his abdomen.

"That question seems inadequate for determining the level of pain I am in. Each individual has a different threshold for pain."

Dean smirked, and pulled down Mr. Novak's gown so he was fully covered. It was nice to meet someone with the same opinion as him on the damn pain scale question.

"No need to get all existential on me, Mr. Novak. Scale of one to ten?"

"My name is Castiel. What number will convince you to give me painkillers?"

Dean snorted at that. He didn't know if it was the anesthesia making Castiel so brunt, but it was nice to hear so much honesty without the edge of hostility he normally got from patients.

"Anything above a 3, pal."

"Then I believe I am experiencing a pain level of five, Dean."

Dean turned and glanced at the white board under the TV, which had been filled out with his name under the 'day nurse' section, complete with a heart after his name.  Dean rolled his eyes and resolved to change Jo's name to Joanna under the 'night nurse' section. She was always screwing with him, in every sense but the one that he'd really enjoy. He wouldn't put it past her to be the one who made sure they only ad scrubs left in the lovely shade of salmon that he was wearing.

"Alright, Cas. I'll get you some morphine. No touching your bandages, okay?"

Castiel nodded, a look of intense seriousness on his face, and Dean shoot him a small smile before heading out. By the time Dean got back to Castiel with his morphine, the man was passed out cold. Dean hooked up the IV and pulled the door mostly closed on his way out of the room. Nothing like trying to sleep when you can hear a doctor getting paged every five minutes from the hallway. Dean's shift progressed, long periods of monotony being broken up by moments of rushed excitement, angry patients, and bad hospital food. Dean found himself coming back to Castiel's room more often than strictly necessary, but there was something about the guy that made Dean smile. And, okay, sure, maybe Dean was crushing on the guy a little, but you couldn't blame him for that. The guy was freaking gorgeous.

 Dean checked in on Castiel around lunch time, giving him the okay to try some solid food since he hadn't been throwing anything back up so far. He found Castiel propped up in the bed, watching some court drama on TV and completely ignoring the grilled cheese sandwich on the tray in front of him.

"Come on, Cas, you gotta eat. Sooner you prove you can keep food down, sooner you get outta here."

Castiel turned his attention from the TV to Dean (and no, that did not give Dean butterflies _at all_ ) and grimaced. 

"It's awful. How do you ruin grilled cheese?"

And just like that, Dean finds himself sharing his pb&j with a patient he barely knows and discussing the merits (or lack thereof) of daytime television. After lunch it's back to dodging a little projectile vomit and the mountain of paperwork on his desk finally hits critical mass. Dean settles in to chip away at the paperwork and only checks on his patients when they hit the call button for him. Cas calls for him once, after setting off his heart monitor accidentally. Dean resets the damn thing, and lingers, not overeager to return to his paperwork.

"So, I can't help but notice, no family?"

Cas fiddles with the TV remote, not making eye contact, and Dean feels like a huge dick. If there's one thing he's good at, it's asking questions people don't want to answer.

"Look, man, it's none of my business. It's just, you should really have someone looking after you once you get out. It's not like I technically have to release you to someone else or anything, but, yeah."

Dean still feels like a dick, but now he's talked himself into a corner.

"No, it's alright. I haven't told them yet. I...don't get along with most of my family."

"Oh. Well, you don't have to. We'll call you a taxi home, and as long as you stay off work for a week, you'll be fine."

Cas smiled. It was startling, to see Cas smiling so sincerely without drugs in system, and at Dean, no less.

"No, I have been avoiding them for too long. But thank you, Dean, for your understanding."

Dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, let me take a peek at your bandages again, and then maybe we can get you up for a walk, hmm?"

After that, Dean tried to stay away from Castiel's room for a while. He really didn't want to come off as some love struck romantic. It's not like he's never crushed on a patient before, but he's afraid of toeing the line of inappropriateness. Which, alright, he does on a daily basis, sure, but he really doesn't want to scare off Cas so quickly. He genuinely likes the guy, weird as he is. Cas has been the best part of Dean's day, and Dean's already sort of dreading signing off on the guys discharge papers. Which, again, inappropriate, seriously.   

Dinner rolls around, and Dean ambles back to Castiel's room, an extra tub of chicken noodle soup from the Panera down the street at the ready. He may not be overly thrilled on a personal level for his favorite patient to be recovering so quickly, but he's still a damn good nurse and willing to do what it takes to get Cas back home as quickly as possible. Picking up the guy some edible food is just good nursing, he tells himself. It has nothing to do with the cell phone number Dean scribbled on the bottom of the soup container. He almost believes himself.

 He's surprised to see that Cas has a visitor, a short, stocky man, leaning against the window frame. Dean thinks he's walked into the middle of a lover's spat, if the look on Castiel's face is anything to judge by. Castiel's hands are gripping the sheets, and he's glaring at the visitor like it could physically hurt him.

"Evening, sunshine. Brought you some dinner."

Dean was never very good at breaking moments of tension, so he doesn't even bother to do so gracefully this time. He just marches in and sets up Castiel's dinner tray over his lap, putting the soup in the center and refilling Cas's water cup from the pitcher in the corner. He had hoped to talk to Cas alone, maybe ask him out for a drink in a few weeks, once he was recovered, but that plan's been shot to hell with the arrival of the mysterious unwanted visitor.

"One a scale of one to ten-" he starts, but Cas cuts him off.

"Three. I'm fine, thank you Dean."

Well, that sounds like a dismissal if he's ever heard one, and Dean snaps back into nurse mode, doing his best to hide his hurt at being so quickly shut down.

"Well, my shift's over in an hour. If you can keep that down-" he gestures to the soup, "then I'll recommend to the night nurse that you be discharged tonight." 

 With that, Dean strode out of the room, doing  his damndest to not look like he was sulking. True to his word, he put a note in Castiel's file that he recommend he be discharged, as long as the surgeon gave him the okay to go home. Castiel didn't call for him for the rest of his shift, and he felt a twinge of regret as he clocked out and headed to the parking garage. Obviously Cas had either not seen Dean's number on the soup container, or had, and didn't feel the need to talk to Dean about it. It wasn't often that he got a date (or fuck) out of one of his patients, but he had hoped that maybe Cas would be interested. No use being a bitch about it now, though. 

As he pulled the door to his Impala closed, Dean did his best to put Castiel out of his mind.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late to update, and I have no excuses, only apologies. 
> 
> As always, un-beta'd.

To Dean's disappointment, but no great surprise, Castiel had been discharged during the night. Dean shrugged it off. Dude had his number, if he wanted to call, he could. Dean's week dragged on, but it was the last of a three day stint, and he had the next two days off. He spent his time off fixing up his baby (that car always needed some loving) and generally being a lazy asshole. He made plans with Sam for a camping trip the next month, thank god, because Dean was hitting his limit of interacting with civilization and dealing with people. A few days out in the middle of nowhere with his brother was exactly what he needed.

A week after Cas had been discharged (and no, Dean's was not keeping track, that's just fucking creepy), Dean was interrupted during his rounds by his charge nurse, Ellen.

"You got a visitor, kid." Ellen shot him a disapproving look. "Looks like your type. Keep your dates outside of work, Dean. You got ten minutes."

Dean had no idea what the hell Ellen was on about now, but he strode out to the waiting room nonetheless. Castiel was perched on the edge of one of the threadbare couches, hands clasped in his lap. Dean took a moment to let the expression of shock slide off his face before heading over to the man. He gave a silent thanks that he wasn't stuck wearing pink scrubs this time.

"Hey, Cas."

Dean wondered if Cas could tell how hard he was trying to act cool. Probably not, judging from the dazed look on Castiel's face when he looked up at Dean.

"Dean."

Cas stood, swaying into Dean's personal space. Cas didn't seem to care to elaborate on his proclamation of Dean's name, and instead choose to stare intently into Dean's eyes. And that cranked up the level of awkward to eleven, and Dean was just not having any of that shit today. He took a half-step back and gave Cas a small smile.

"What's the word, Cas?"

Castiel tilted his head slightly, reminding Dean of a bird, or maybe one of those creepy raptors from Jurassic Park.

"I wanted to apologize. I was never able to thank you for taking care of me."

"Just doing my job." Dean shrugged. It was true enough.  

Cas looked away, his hands coming up to tug on the lapels of his (frankly ridiculous looking) trench coat.

"I also wanted to ask you to dinner."

Dean's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. That was not what he was expecting _at all._

"I, uh, didn't think you were interested. I did give you my number, you know..."

Cas still wasn't looking at him, and a faint blush had crept into his cheeks. What, was he _nervous_? Dean had left the guy his number, he was pretty much a sure thing.

"Yes, you did. But I wanted to ask you in person. And apologize for my behavior." Castiel shuffled his feet, winding up firmly back in Dean's personal space again. Damn, that was a habit with this guy. "My brother tends to bring out the worst in me."

That just begged for a series of follow-up questions, but Dean _was_ at work.

"Apology accepted. As long as you're paying for dinner."

Dean tacked on his most charming smile. Cas smiled back, finally looking less nervous.

"I'll text you the address. And, sorry about interrupting your day."

Dean had to laugh. The was the weirdest build-up to a first date he'd ever experienced. Dean offered his hand, and Cas slipped his smaller, warm palm against his. It was so fucking surreal, that this was the first real contact they had, outside of a medical setting. Dean squeezed Cas's hand lightly, enjoying the pinpricks of pleasure setting off in his brain. Cas shook his hand back and smiled before pulling away. Dean watched him walk out of the hospital with a weird flutter in his stomach.

Dean was an hour away from his shift ending when his phone buzzed.

_8:30pm. Le Coq au Vin._

Dean suppressed a shudder of cold fear. That was definitely something in French. Cas wanted to go to a French restaurant? God, the place was probably stuffy as hell. Dean did a quick mental scan of his closet, trying to decide if he even owned nice enough clothes to get in the door. Dean's dates usually lasted just long enough to get back to his apartment, and they never involved fancy French restaurants he couldn't even pronounce the names of. The fact that Dean knew next to nothing about Castiel was starting to settle in. What if he was actually really boring? Fuck, what if he was rich? What the hell would they even talk about?

Dean spent the rest of his shift trying to calm himself down. It was just one date. And if Cas turned out to be a total chump, whatever. He was getting a free (fancy) meal out of it. When he got home, Dean spent longer than normal grooming, and settled on wearing the nicest pair of jeans he owned with a sports jacket. If they didn't let him in, they could blow him. He looked good, dammit. He looked up the address for the restaurant on his smartphone (a gift from Sam, he could barely work the damn thing).  It was downtown, not too long of a drive for Dean, but parking the baby in a parallel spot was going to be a bitch. Dean grumbled to himself. Fancy French food and this too? He'd better be getting laid tonight.

He arrived at the restaurant precisely on time, having spent the better part of 20 minutes cruising for an acceptable spot to park baby. He glanced at his phone as he crossed the street, the glow of streetlights illuminating the understated sign for Le Coq au Vin in front of him.  He had sent a text to Cas when he was leaving,  and he saw now that he had a reply.

_Ask the maître d for Novak_

Dear God, Cas had actually typed that damn little accent mark in a text message. Dean forced himself forward, there was no point backing out now. With trepidation, he pulled the door open and stepped into the restaurant. It wasn't what he was expecting, not exactly. It was smaller than what he had pictured, and subtlety decorated. Yeah, okay, the tables had white linens ( a sure sign that it was above Dean's pay grade) and the host - _maître d_ \- was wearing a suit. But it could have been worse. The host smiled at him, only briefly glancing at his jeans, and asked how he could be of assistance.

"I'm meeting Castiel Novak?"

The host gave a curt nod.

"Of course. Please, follow me."

Dean did as instructed, winding through the rather close set tables until reaching a small table in the far back corner, more secluded than the rest. Castiel rose from his seat and greeted Dean with another handshake and a warm smile. Dean's worries  and nervous anxiety (shut up, it was totally normal to get nervous on a date) subsided. The host left them with a wine list and the assurance that their waitress would be with them shortly.

"Hello, Dean. Thank you for meeting me tonight."

And that was it, right there, the odd way the guy had of talking, so formal and stiff, but it didn't piss Dean off at all. Dean _liked_ it. Like, he found it endearing or some shit.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Cas gave a low chuckle. Dean noticed he was still wearing the rumpled suit from earlier, though he had ditched the trenchcoat.

"Are you really giving me the 'scale of one to ten' question, Dean? On our first date?"

Dean was spared the need to give a witty retort, as the waitress appeared with menus. Cas ordered a bottle of wine, which Dean was very doubtful he'd be helping him polish off. Dean was a beer drinker, and never developed much of a taste for wine.  He tentatively cracked open the menu, fearing the whole damn thing would be in French.

"Shit, Cas, are you trying to impress me or what? There's no prices on these menus!"

Was it tacky to bring that up? Probably. But it was true. Dean was starting to feel out of his depth again, although at least the menu was in English, for all the good it did him. Would they throw him out if he asked for a burger?

Cas looked bashful. He was good at doing that, Dean noticed. Cas avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the menu in front of him.

"Well, my brother actually owns the restaurant, so I've negotiated a special rate." Cas looked back to Dean. "I hope this doesn't negatively affect your opinion of me, but I really could not normally afford this place."

Dean was flooded with relief.

"Cas, you have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that."

Once assured that Cas wasn't some spoiled rich asshole, dinner went better than Dean had expected. They talked about the normal things people did on first dates: occupations (Cas taught theology at the local university), family (Cas had five siblings, all with names of varying degrees of ridiculousness), and their hobbies.

"Seriously? You learn new languages for _fun_?"

Dean laughed, this guy was unbelievable. He should be bored out of his mind, but here he was, most of the way through the steak Cas had recommended to him, having more fun than he had in weeks. And all they were doing was talking. There was something about the guy that made him comfortable, and he actually cared about his life. It was a little intense for a first date for Dean. He even found himself on his third glass of wine by the time he remembered he didn't like wine.

Dean talked Cas into getting dessert (the bill was on his brother anyways, right?), and they shared a piece of particularly good cheesecake - they didn't have any pie. Cas spoke with the waitress and sent his compliments to the chef. As they walked out of the restaurant together, not quite touching, Dean thought of ways he could prolong his evening with Castiel.

"Walk you to your car?"

Cas shook his head.

"I actually walked. I only live a few blocks away."

"Great. I'll walk you home then."

Cas's mouth pulled up into a lopsided smile.

"Alright."

They walked through the streets, their pace matched, and the back of Dean's hand occasionally brushed against Cas's. Every time it did, a small trill of excitement shoot up Dean's arm. God, he wanted Cas so badly. It had been while since he'd been with anyone, and Cas was just so _available_.

"So, your brother that owns the restaurant. Same one that was pissing you off at the hospital?"

"Yes. Gabriel."

"One of your more reasonably named siblings."

Cas chuckled.

"Yes. I am closest to him, however...he has a way of getting under my skin."

Dean could understand that. There was no one in the world he was closer to than Sammy, but that kid knew all the right buttons to push to set him off.  The gift of a close brother, he supposed.

" I get that. Sammy and me, we're real close. We've had a few great fights though."

"You talk about him often. I would like to meet him. You sound very proud of him."

Dean felt like he had taken a sucker punch to his stomach. Cas wanted to meet Sam? It was a great first date and all, but talking about meeting each other's family? Dean hadn't introduced any of his past 'relationships' to his brother. That was usually because Dean didn't let anyone stick around for longer than a few weeks. Attachments were...tricky.

They had come to a stop outside an apartment complex, not far from where they had dinner. Dean guessed this was where Cas lived, and he was hoping he'd get to see the inside if he was lucky. His honesty had gotten him this far, so figured he'd just come out with it.   

"Look, Cas, I like you and all, but I don't really do relationships."

 Cas employed his creepy little head tilt, the hint of a smile on his face.

"Well, you should consider making an exception."

 Not for the first time that night, Dean was surprised. Cas totally called him out on his shit, and that took some balls. He found himself silenced, he really didn't have a witty reply. Cas totally threw him through a loop. Cas seemed to know what to do however, and leaned in to Dean, pressing his lips tightly against Dean's.

And this Dean knew how to do. He reached out and tugged Cas closer, letting his hands rest against the base of the other man's spine. Cas wound his arms around Dean's shoulders, gripping into his jacket. Their lips skidded together, and Dean opened his mouth to drag his tongue along Cas's lower lip. Cas's lips parted, inviting him in, and Dean licked his way into Cas's mouth. It was wet, and hot, and _goddamn_ Dean hadn't made out like this in so long. The only contact their skin made was where their mouths were joined, where the tips of their noses brushed, and Dean wanted more, so much more.  He pulled Cas closer, feeling his warm body line up against his own.

Cas groaned into Dean's mouth, twisting his tongue against Dean's, and all at once, Dean couldn't handle it anymore. They were making out on the street like teenagers, when he was damn sure Cas had a bed they could put to use. He pulled away, dropping his hands from Castiel's back, trying to regain his space.

"Why don't you invite me up, Cas?"

Cas hadn't let go of Dean's shoulders, and he leaned in again to land a soft, chaste kiss on Dean's lips.

"I don't do one night stands, Dean."

And just like that, Cas pulled himself away from Dean and turned, striding into the apartment building. Dean stood on the pavement, staring dumbly at the entrance door. He didn't know what to make of that. Shaking his head, he turned back to the street and started walking back to where he had parked the Impala. He heard the chirp of his phone and pulled it out to see a text from Cas.

_Next time, dinner's on you._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, the next one will be longer!
> 
> As always, un-beta'd!

Three weeks (and six dates and countless text conversations) later, Dean still hadn’t been able to move past the ‘making out on the front steps’ stage with Cas. It was pretty damn frustrating. After their second date had ended pretty much the same way as their first, Dean had worried that Cas was holding out for religious reasons. It wouldn’t have been out of the question – his whole damn family was named after a flock of angels, for chrissakes. It was a relief to find that while he found the theology of religion interesting, Cas held no particular faith himself. Dean could sense a story behind that – he sounded pretty bitter when he talked about his faith – but Dean didn’t think they’d hit the point where he could ask about it. Which was another thing that was pissing him off. He didn’t do the relationship thing. Ever. What the fuck was happening? How did he end up going on seven dates with a guy and he hadn’t even gotten past the front door?

Dean poured out his frustrations under the hood of the impala. He was driving out to pick up Sammy the next morning for their camping trip, and Dean didn't want any surprises while he was on the road.  He started when his phone went off, blaring Kansas. He wiped his hand so that is was relatively grease free when he pushed the answer button.

"Cas, what's up?"

"Dean."

There was a pause. Dean was growing used to waiting for Cas to come out with what he wanted to say. Sometimes it just took him a while.

"I do not mean to impose, but..."

Cas paused again, and Dean could sense something was wrong. Cas's voice was off, more than normal.

"What's going on, Cas. You okay?"

 "Would it be possible to visit you right now?"

"What, at my apartment?"

Not that Dean didn't want Cas in his apartment (he so very much wanted that), but Cas knew he was going out of town the next day. And he'd never wanted to come over before. Dean did his best not to read too much into it.

"I apologize, I know it is last minute. I will make other arrangements if I am making things difficult for you."

"No, no, it's totally fine. Here, let me give you my address."

Dean rushed back into his apartment after hanging up with Cas. He had a moment of deliberation: he could either make his apartment look presentable, or himself.  He opted for a shower; Cas would have to deal with a sink-full of dirty dishes. He washed quickly, trying not to get ahead of himself. Cas was obviously upset about something, he couldn't just assume he was actually going to get any action tonight. But still, he could hope.

There was knock on his door just as he was stepping out of the shower. Dean wrapped a towel snuggly around his waist and padded out to let Cas in, still dripping onto the carpet. Goddamn, it was totally worth it to see the look on Cas's face. Once the door swung open, Cas's eyes immediately swept down Dean's torso, lingering minutely on the tattoo on his chest. He turned his head away once he reached Dean's hips (and yeah, Dean was feeling pretty damn smug about the blush creeping across Castiel's face).

"Dean. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt - "

Dean pulled the door fully open, stepping aside and gesturing for Cas to come inside. Castiel tread in tentatively, still avoiding looking at Dean.

"Make yourself at home. Sorry about the mess. I don't get much company."

Dean waved at the couch (which also served as his dining table) settled along the opposite wall. It was small and lumpy, but it was cheap and Dean had grown unnaturally attached to the small yellow flower pattern on it. Cas sat, tugging his trenchcoat closed over his lap. Dean suppressed rolling his eyes - seriously, did the guy own any other clothes? - and walked back to his bedroom, leaving the door open.

"Not that I mind, but what brings you here, Cas?"

Dean called through the open doorway, tugging on a pair of sweatpants.  His apartment was small - he only needed room for one - and his voice carried easily.

“My brothers are visiting. I felt the need to…get some space, as they say.”

Dean chuckled and pulled a worn tee shirt over his head. It was nice to know that even the unflappable Cas had a limit of dealing with people’s shit.

“Well, you came to the right place. I’ve got a six pack of beer and the first two seasons of Dr. Sexy.”

Dean walked back into the living/dining/whatever room to find Cas picking at a loose thread on Dean’s couch. He had a sudden bout of self consciousness over the state of his raggedy apartment, but hell if he was gonna explain himself to Cas.

"I suppose I should give Dr. Sexy a chance."

Dean snorted and grabbed two beers out of the fridge in the kitchen. He popped in the first season and settled in next to Cas. His couch may have been small, but it's size was working in Dean's favor for once. His leg pressed up against Cas's, the other man's warmth seeping in through their combined layers. It took the better part of a bottle of beer and an episode and a half for Cas to finally take off his trenchcoat, but Dean considers it a victory worth waiting for. Dean tries to start a conversation several times, but apparently Cas takes his television shows seriously, and Dean gets shushed for all his efforts.

Dean contents himself with the companionable silence between them and enjoys the feeling of another person beside him. He's not used to being so physically close to someone without the promise of sex. Which is still something he's hoping for, just to be clear, but it's a nice change. There no sense of pressure, no building desire (though that's always nice too), just familiarity and warmth.

By the third episode, Dean somehow ends up with his hand entwined with Cas's on his lap. And for some reason, it was at this point that Dean realized he and Cas were dating. He would be hard pressed to identify why it was this moment, more than any other, that solidified this fact. Dean didn't date. He fucked, he screwed, he took men and women home and promised to call the next day. He didn't watch cheesy medical dramas and hold hands (and damn, that was pretty gay, wasn't it?).  

Cas turned his face to look at Dean, and normally this would be about the time he'd be leaning in, touching their lips together. He'd slide his hand around to grip at the back of Cas's neck and press himself against Castiel's front, pushing the man back into the couch. It would be easy. He'd done it countless times before. But instead he smiled and squeezed the hand he was gripping and refused to give one fuck about how this wasn't what he normally did. Cas smiled back at him, and Dean felt a heat unspool in his chest.

They both managed to doze off around the fifth episode. Dean woke slowly, sleep making him clumsy, his hand still in Cas's. He shook the other man awake, watching his eyelids flutter open. There was a thin line of saliva spilling out of the corner of Cas's mouth, and Dean reached out to wipe it away without a second thought.

"C'mon. You can borrow a pair of sweats. But I'm kicking you out in the morning."

Cas blinked, looking still mostly asleep.

"Dean, I don't want to give you the wrong impression..."

"Don't worry, princess, I shall leave your dignity intact."

Cas looked unconvinced.

"Cas, it's late. We're both tired. Just come to bed."

Dean's weak argument seemed to be enough to convince Cas, who really did look exhausted. Dean remembered that he had come over to get away from his brothers, and wondered if that wasn't at least part of the reason for his exhaustion. They trudged wearily to the bedroom and Dean tugged another pair of sweatpants out of his dresser, tossing them to Cas. Of course, they hit Cas squarely in the chest and fell to the floor.  Dean sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Dude. Motor skills?"

Cas responded with his trademark squinty eyes and head tilt.

"Whatever. I'm beat. Try not to kick me, okay?"

Dean peeled back the comforter on his bed and crawled under it. He turned on his side, rolling away from Cas. After a few minutes he heard the rustle of clothing and the other side of the bed dented.

"Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome. Now shut up."

The last thought Dean had before drifting off to sleep was that he had finally gotten Cas into his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the last. 
> 
> As ever, un-beta'd. Please forgive mistakes.

Dean waited until the last day of their camping trip before telling Sam about Cas. It's not as though he was ashamed or nervous (okay maybe a little nervous, fuck off), but this wasn't something they really did. Sam talked about Jess occasionally, but they had been together for years. It was only a matter of time before Sammy grew some balls and married her, really. Dean had never really brought up any of his past 'relationships', mainly because there wasn't anything to talk about. But he and Cas had been doing this thing for a month now, and Dean had no plans of calling it quits. Besides, Cas had said he wanted to meet Sam, and Dean was starting to warm up to the idea, despite the damn voice in the back his head having a panic attack.

"So." Dean jerks on his fishing rod, watching the ripples mar the smooth surface of the lake.

"I've, uh, been seeing someone."

He doesn't need to look over at Sammy to know that his brother has got one eyebrow raised in curiosity.   

"Really? You? "

Dean swings his leg out to the side, tapping his foot against Sam's in a mock kick.

“Shuddup.”

Dean looked over at Sam, who had his beer bottle raised halfway to his lips. His eyebrow was still cocked, clearly waiting for Dean to finish his story.

“Just, I dunno, thought I’d let you know. Maybe you can meet him or something.”

Dean played casual, but he knew Sammy could see right through his bullshit. Sam hadn’t met any of Dean’s boyfriends or girlfriends, ever. Dean had to admit, he was freaking a little. It was starting to become a common feeling, which was only serving to piss Dean off even more. Vicious fucking circle, really.

“Dean, the last fling you even _talked_ to me about was that yoga instructor.”

“Oh, yeah, Lisa! Man, she was bendy!”

Dean smiled at the fond memory  of a fantastic two weeks, but that was years ago. Sam groaned.

“Yeah, I know. You wouldn’t shut up about it. So this new guy must be something special.”

Dean turned back to his line, reeling it in a bit before just letting it sit. It’s not like they came out here to actually catch fish. It was just something relaxing to do. And manly. And it also happened to be one of the few activities during which it was acceptable to talk about feelings and shit. So. Yeah. Fishing.

“Cas is….different.”

“Gotta tell you man, I always thought it would be some girl who would finally convince you to settle down and live the domestic life. I never thought you were as into dudes.”

Dean smirks, because Sam has set him up perfectly for an off-color joke, but Sam cuts him off just as he opens his mouth.

“Oh, god, c’mon man!”

Sam has always been a prude little bitch. Dean knows that Sam doesn’t give two fucks that Dean’s ‘into’ men, as he put it. He had a similar reaction when Dean got into the details of explaining just how flexible Lisa was, Dean remembers. Sam adamantly did not believe in kissing and telling, as Dean had found out after hearing about Jess. The bastard had given Dean a black eye for giving Sammy some lewd suggestions on how to keep his new girlfriend around. Dean totally deserved it though - Jess was a fucking angel, and Dean couldn’t look at her now and not see her as a sister.

Dean closes his mouth, but keeps his smirk in place.

"So, is it, like, serious?"

Dean has to think about that one. He hasn't really been with Cas all that long (hell, he's not even sure Cas isn't seeing anyone else), but it's longer than he's been with anyone else, and that's gotta count for something.  Dean settles with giving Sam a shrug for an answer. Sam doesn't seem to think it's an acceptable response.

"Come on, man. Tell me about him."

"God, Sammy, how much of a girl are you?"

Sam rolls his eyes, just further convincing Dean that he's a total chick.

"Dean, don't be a dick. I know why we go fishing on the last day of the trip. This is the only time we actually talk about shit that matters. And I wanna know about your life."

Well, damn, doesn't that just send Dean on a fucking guilt trip. Sammy's always been more open to talking, always the one asking about Dean's feelings and worrying about his mental health and all that shit. Dean was never too good at that, and he knows it. Dean practically raised Sammy, their dad was no help there, but Dean could never really supply Sam with the emotional support he needed. Dean had been raised to just suppress his feelings, and he kind of just ended up doing the same to Sam.  He swallowed, trying hard not to compare himself to his dad. Nothing but pain in thinking like that.

"Yeah, okay. Calm your panties, Samantha."

Sam looked like he was on the verge of another eye-roll, so Dean launched into the story of how he met Cas. He had only intended to tell Sam how they met, but he found himself relaying the events of their first date, and some of Cas's quirks that Dean had picked up on. He told Sam about Cas's family (" _Wait_ , _they're all named after angels? Dude, who does that?"),_ about his job ( _"Theology? He's definitely out of your league, Dean."_ ), and about how completely enamored Dean was with him.

"Wow. I'm really surprised, Dean."

Dean buried his head in his hands - he had long since reeled his line in and gave up on the pretense of fishing to distract him.

"We haven't even fucked. What the hell is wrong with me, man?"

"Really? Wow. You've got it bad, Dean."

Dean groaned into his hands. This was ridiculous. He was acting like a damn teenager falling in love for the first time. And Dean would not - would _absolutely not_ \- allow himself to think about associating the word 'love' with Castiel. For fuck's sake, it had only been a month. He didn't even know what the guy's apartment looked like! He could be a fucking serial killer or some shit! Dean felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and he let out a deep sigh.

"Alright, enough with my crap. Tell me how about you and Jess."

Sam's face split into a grin. He really did love that woman. Dean listened to Sam talk about his and Jess's life together and felt genuine happiness. Damn, it had been a while since he felt so relaxed, so at ease with where is life was. Sam looked sheepish when he pulled out a small square box and showed Dean the ring he had picked out for Jess. Well, it was about damn time, and he told as much to Sam.

"I could have loaned you some cash, man. Sprung for a rock she can see without a microscope."

"Oh, fuck off, Dean."

It was one of the best camping trips they had ever had. Dean was reluctant when he dropped Sam back off at his apartment, two hours and a state line away from his own.

"Hey, Dean, I'm really happy for you."

Sam leaned into the driver's window and clapped his brother on the shoulder.

"Don't fuck it up."

Dean snorted.

"Same to you, Sammy. Jess is a lucky girl, you know."

Sam shot Dean a grin and retreated to his apartment.

Dean pulled out his phone when he was an hour from home and dialed Cas.

"Hey, Cas. You busy tonight? Wanna do something?"

"I would like that."

"You wanna get dinner? Maybe catch a movie or something?"

There was a long pause, which Dean patiently waited through.

"Actually, would you like to come over to my apartment? I would like to have a. . . night in."

Dean would fucking _love_ a night in.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great. Be there in an hour?"

"I'll wait here."

And Cas hung up. Damn, that guy was just so weird. Dean couldn't help but laugh to himself as he tossed his phone onto the seat next to him.

Dean got to Cas's apartment just as the sun was setting. He had to parallel park Baby (again), and damn, that was getting old. He'd have to look into getting a guest pass so he could park in the garage next Cas's (extremely sensible) hybrid.

Dean rapped on Cas's door, and suddenly wondered if he should have brought flowers or something. He'd never bought anyone flowers before, but he thought about buying them for Cas, and it didn't even seem that weird. Who'd have thought Dean Winchester would find himself wanting to buy flowers and get a parking pass? It was practically settling down with a dog and a picket fence.

Cas smiled when he opened the door, and Dean failed to suppress a tinge of warmth from spreading  through his body. Dean briefly took note of exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and sleek modern furniture before Cas tugged him in by the collar of his jacket and pulled him in for a searing kiss. Dean enjoyed the greeting, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's lithe body and smiling into the kiss.

"I missed you too, honey." He said against Cas's lips as he kicked the door closed. 

He pulled away from Cas's mouth with effort, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose (yeah, okay, that was pretty damn gay).

"Dean."

Cas gripped the back of Dean's neck, refusing to let him retreat from his mouth for long. Not that Dean was complaining, but he still had his damn shoes on. Normally, their make out sessions took place as they were saying goodbye, which suited Dean just fine, since he immediately drove home and got himself off. It was gonna be an awkward night if Dean was going to have to will away a boner while they were eating dinner.  Dean again detached himself from Cas, keeping his hands on the other man's waist.

"Hey. Slow down, man."

Cas paused, looking directly into Dean's eyes (and it was still creepy, despite Dean being used to it).

"I want to have sex with you, Dean."

And Cas latched his mouth onto the side of Dean's neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at the skin there. Dean hadn't known that it was possible to get instantly hard, but Cas's words had just that effect on him. Involuntarily, Dean tugged Cas closer, aligning their bodies and pushing his hips against Cas's. Cas moaned into his neck, and Dean ground his hips into Cas, feeling the other man's answering hardness against his thigh.  

"Not that I don't want this - " Oh god, did Dean want this, "but why now? I've been trying to get in your pants since day one."

Cas's hands pushed impatiently at Dean's jacket, and Dean let the offending garment slide down his arms and thud softly to the floor.

"You finally seem ready."

Dean very nearly sputtered.

"Me? I've been ready to fuck you since I - "

Dean was cut off as Cas tugged his tee shirt over his head, muffling his words.

"Yes, Dean, you were ready to fuck me. You weren't ready for this."

Cas explains this to him patiently, as though explaining to a child how to tie their shoes for the eighteenth time. Dean thinks about protesting - what the fuck does that even mean, anyways? - but Cas chooses that moment to suck Dean's nipple into his mouth. Dean groans, threading a hand through Cas's hair and keeping him from moving.

"Fuck, Cas."

Cas pulled off and moved up to lick at the tattoo just below Dean's clavicle, and Dean felt smug. He knew Cas would have a thing for tattoos. Dean pushed his hips against the warm body in front of him and Dean felt Cas's hands slide down to grasp at his ass through the denim of his jeans.

"I want you, Dean. On your back, with your legs wrapped around my waist while I fuck into you. On your knees with my dick in your mouth. Beneath me, while I ride you until I make you come. I want you in every possible way."

Holy _fucking shit_ Dean had no idea that Cas would be into talking dirty, but goddamn did it sound good from him. He damn near whimpered when Cas licked into his mouth again, thrusting his hips hard against Cas. Cas pushed back, rough, and Dean's back hit the front door. They hadn't even made it to the damn couch. Dean had a sudden vision of Cas fucking him against the front door and another groan slid past his lips. He wasn't usually on the receiving end when he was with men, but Cas was always good at pulling out aspects of Dean's personality that he had buried.

Dean's bare back rubbed against the door as Cas continued to undulate against him, and Dean reached between them to cup Cas's erection through his pants.

"Yeah, yeah, Cas. You can have me."

Cas gave a sharp bite to Dean's bottom lip and slid gracefully to his knees. He looked up at Dean through his lashes, the blue of his eyes nearly eclipsed by the blackness of his pupils blown wide.  His lips were kiss-swollen and slick with spit, and Dean's breath caught in his throat. Cas hastily unbuttoned Dean's jeans and tugged them down, where they tangled at his knees. Dear lord, Dean _still had his_ _shoes_ _on._   

Cas nuzzled at the thickness beneath Dean's boxers, and locked eyes with him as he swiftly ran his tongue over his cloth-clad erection. Dean shivered, his hands gripping into Cas's shoulders.

“Oh, fuck Cas.”

Dean was echoing his previous words, but nothing else was coming to mind. All of his concentration was focused on Cas and the sensations he was pulling from him. Cas pushed Dean's boxers down, sliding them over his hips and letting them join his jeans around his knees. Dean's cock sprung free, pink and swollen, bobbing in front of Cas. Dean watched, rapt, as Cas tilted forward and licked a long, wet stripe from the base of Dean's cock to the head. Oh Jesus, it was unbelievable, what Cas was doing to him. He had thought about this for so long, wanted this for so long, and now Cas was here, on his knees, with Dean's dick in his mouth.  Un-fucking-believable.

Cas kept his eyes on Dean's as opened his mouth and damn near  _consumed_ him. Cas took him all the way, relaxing his gag reflex enough for the tip of Dean's dick to hit the back of his throat, and wasn't that a nice little surprise Cas was keeping for him? Dean tightened his grip on Cas's shoulders and tried desperately not to thrust in the wet heat surrounding him. Cas groaned around the load in his mouth. Dean ripped his gaze away from Cas's, throwing his head back against the door. He couldn't look at Cas - it was too intense, too much. He felt the slick heat bobbing up and down along his cock, and the suction increased as the speed did. Dean's hands migrated to clutch at Cas's hair, not hard, not pulling. Just grasping. Damn, it felt good. Dean didn't think he could hold on for long, and that was gonna be embarrassing as shit, but how the hell was he supposed to hold out when Cas was moving like _that_?

"Cas, Cas, I can't. Oh god, I can't -"

Cas pulled off and worked his hand quickly in its place.

"Look at me, Dean."

Well, when he asked so nicely... Dean looked down, watching as Cas pumped his shaft and gazed up at Dean with puffy lips and an expectant smile.

"Yes, Dean."

And that was it, Dean was there, shooting white-hot and electric over Cas's face. His hips stuttered as Cas stroked him through his orgasm. Dean slumped against the door, dick still twitching, and tried vehemently to keep his legs working. He'd already come all over Cas's face, it'd be really rude if he just collapsed on top of him. Now that the urgency had left him, and his brain seemed to be functioning once again, Dean once again realized that he  was standing against the front door with his pants around his knees while Cas sat on the floor, completely dressed. Well now, that was just unacceptable.

He grabbed at the collar of Cas's tee shirt (and thank god he wasn't wearing that damn suit or coat) and hauled him up. He crushed Cas's mouth to his, not giving a damn that he was smearing his own cum across his face in the process.

"Let's get you to a bed, so I can return the favor."

Cas seemed to like this idea, turning and starting off into the apartment proper, while Dean stumbled out of his shoes and pants, leaving them discarded on the floor.  Cas's place was bigger than he expected, all very upscale and pretty much the opposite of Dean's apartment. He didn't really have time to ask for a tour though, so he just padded softly behind Cas (completely fucking naked, which was just weird) to the small bedroom off the living room.

Cas wasted no time in stripping himself of his clothes before situating himself on the edge of the bed, legs splayed shamelessly. Dean took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Cas was gorgeous. Less muscular than Dean, but still fit. Dean's eyes trailed over his chest, down to his abdomen, where tow horizontal scars marred the skin of his left side. Incision marks, from when he had his appendix removed. Dean moved other to kneel between Cas's knees and ran a thumb across the small scar he found on the inside edge of his belly button.

"Gotta tell you, Cas, I've never been so happy for someone to have a surgery before."

Dean leaned forward and slid his tongue along the scar, tasting the raised and puckered skin. Cas settled his hands in Dean's hair, gripping gently as Dean moved down his body with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He reached the base of Cas's cock and took it firmly in one hand, pulling on it with a teasing stroke.

"Dean."

Dean looked up from Cas's cock and smirked. Dean may be shit at relationships, but this he was good at. He could feel Cas's eyes on him as he looked back to Cas's dick and slowly started teasing the head with his tongue. Cas sucked in a breath, and Dean surged forward, wanting to hear more. The head hit the back of his throat, but unlike Cas, he didn't have such a great control over his gag reflex. He settled for lavishing what part of Cas's dick he could with his mouth, sucking and licking greedily, while he pumped the rest with his hand. Cas moaned, and the hands in his hair gripped tighter. Dean had forgotten how much he loved this. This feeling of being in complete control, even while he was on his knees.

"Dean, put your fingers in me."

_Jesus_ , Cas wasn't shy about asking for what he wanted. Dean's dick made a valiant effort at becoming interested again, but it was too soon, he wasn't a fucking teenager anymore. Dean reached up and traced two fingers around Cas's lips, shuddering as Cas sucked them in, mirroring the movements Dean was making on his dick. He pulled them free and slid them carefully behind Cas's sack, still bobbing his head swiftly. He traced Cas's entrance, feeling the other man shudder against him. Slowly, he pushed one finger in, not stopping until it was fully inside.

"Yes, more. Uhn..."

Dean pulled out and rammed his finger back in, crooking it and looking for the spot that would make Cas scream. Cas's thighs were shaking on either side of Dean's head, his hips making small, aborted thrusts. Dean kept rocking his finger in and out of Cas, adding the second when he felt Cas could take it. Dean's knees were starting to ache, and his jaw was getting sore. But Cas was making these soft little hiccupping noises, and Dean would stay on his knees all night if it meant he go to hear those noises. Cas gasped as Dean pushed both fingers in him, hard and quick.

"Dean, yes, _yes._ "

And then Cas was tugging Dean's head out of the way, his own hand covering Dean's on his dick, and warm liquid was hitting Dean's face. Cas continued stroking himself through it, gasping out sharp breaths.

"God, we are a mess."

Cas laughed, softly.

"Then let's go clean up."

They shared a hot shower (and Dean was eyeing that Jacuzzi tub for future reference), and tumbled back into bed together. Dean relished being able to touch Cas's body without the barriers of clothes or worrying if he was coming off too strong. Cas fit himself to Dean's side, tracing a finger over his tattoo.

"Sammy's got a matching one. Present for his eighteenth birthday."

Cas hummed.

"Dean, do you want to be a doctor?"

Dean turned his head to look at Cas in surprise.

"Uh, that's out of left field."

Cas deemed it unnecessary to answer, and instead employed his creepy soul-stare technique until Dean gave him an answer he wanted.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Kindda always wanted to be a surgeon. I do have nimble fingers, after all."

He winked at Cas, not that it got a reaction out of him.

"Why don't you become a surgeon?"

Dean sighed. This wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have during his post-orgasmic bliss.  

"Money, Cas. I'm still paying off the loans I took out to put Sammy through fancy lawyer school. Besides, I'm not smart enough for all that."

Cas lifted himself up, propping his head on his hand to stare at Dean.

"Money can be obtained. And you are smart."

"C'mon, Cas. Let's not do this.

And yeah, okay, it's a bit of a sore topic, okay? He must have had this conversation with Sam a dozen times. It just wasn't in the cards for him. He had made peace with the fact that he wouldn't be a surgeon. It was a dream worth giving up, so Sammy could get through school. Besides, he had a good job, he liked what he did. He was still helping people.

"I can help. My family is wealthy. They can loan me the money."

Dean couldn't do this. He was not going to have this conversation with a guy he'd only known a month. He pushed off the bed, as Cas watched him in confusion. Dean felt anger and shame burn through him. It was none of Cas's business.

"I'm leaving."

Dean strode out of the bedroom, trying to maintain some semblance of his dignity while having a tantrum completely naked.

"Dean, please. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Whatever, dude."

Dean found his clothes, still strewn around the front door, and started tugging them on hastily.

"Dean."

Cas was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, still nude. He looked small, and Dean couldn't look him in the eye. He knew he was overreacting, but he needed to get out of there.

"I'll call you later, Cas."

Dean didn't even have his shoes on yet, but he didn't care. He needed to get away from Cas. When the door clicked shut behind him, he felt a rush of relief and regret, all at once.   

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took way too long, my apologies! There will be one more chapter, a mostly smut epilogue. 
> 
> Un-beta'd, of course.

Dean was being a total bitch, and he knew it. The first few days without calling Cas had been easy. He was still riding on anger and humiliation, so it was easy to make Cas out as the bad guy. After a week, he started to break down, but when he picked up his phone, he wondered why Cas hadn't bothered to try to contact him, and that lead him to think that Cas didn't really _want_ to hear from him. So now he was at the two week point, and it would just be fucking awkward to call him now. He'd waited too long, Cas had moved on, and Dean was being a goddamn wuss about the whole damn thing.

It wasn't like they had even had a relationship, really. At least, that's what Dean tried to tell himself. They'd only been together for a month, a month was nothing. Or rather, a month of sex would be nothing. A month of not-sex? A month of actual dating, of Dean getting comfortable around someone else? A month of Dean letting someone in? Yeah, a month was something. It was a hell of something, for Dean. For Cas? Probably not so much. He had told Dean on their first date that he didn't do one night stands. He seemed like the settling down type. A month of dinner dates and easy conversation probably really was nothing to him.

Dean tried his best to push thoughts of Cas out of his mind as he slogged through a particularly vicious Wednesday at the hospital.  He'd been assigned to recovering in another section of the hospital to help cover. The staff was short, so Dean was moved over to help recover in the GI unit. It wasn’t a very pretty place to be. Two of his patients had gone code blue, and one of them had died, bleeding out from a tear in the esophagus. It was messy, and darkened Dean’s mood. He always took it particularly hard when he lost a patient. Ellen told him constantly that he needed to grow tougher skin.

 He was finally able to go back to his unit just before his shift was over. He tried to catch up on over –due paperwork, knowing that this close to quitting time, it was mostly useless. He was looking forward to a few cold beers and greasy takeout. After a day like today, he deserved it. Ellen was waiting for him when he came out of the locker room, having exchanged his dirty scrubs for his usual jeans and tee shirt.

“You got another visitor. At least now you’re telling ‘em to wait until your shift’s over.”

Dean went hot at her words, then cold. Ellen had her arms crossed over her chest. She was still in scrubs; she had a few more hours till her shift was up.

“Not that I’m tryin’ to tell you what to do, Dean, but try to hang to one, okay? It’d be nice to see you consistently happy, for once.”

Dean gave Ellen a stretched smile. His brain had stopped trying to listen to Ellen past hearing the information that Castiel was here. Dean suppressed a wave of nervous panic, but wasn’t able to squash a surge of happiness. He should have known Cas wouldn’t call. He didn’t call that first time, either. Dean reached up to straighten his hair, suddenly very aware that he hadn’t quite gotten out all the vomit from that patient three hours ago.

“Oh, quit preening, boy. You look fine. Go out there and woo your latest conquest.”

Ellen rolled her eyes and pushed off from where she was leaning against the wall. Dean called out a word of thanks to her retreating back, and leaned back against the wall in an attempt to compose himself. Shit, he really hoped Cas didn’t want to make a scene in the hospital waiting room. Though he didn’t really seem like the making a scene type of guy, it was still a worrisome thought. Dean didn’t let himself think about the implications of Cas’s presence for too long, he’d just end up freaking himself out.

He forced himself to walk at a steady rate to the waiting room, his thoughts a swirling mass of confusion along the way. He took a breath before reaching the door, and wasn’t able to stop a sliver of hope from rising up in his chest. Why would Cas even want to see him, unless he wanted to fix what they had? Dean pushed the door open to the waiting room, instantly scanning the room anxiously for a dark-haired man in a trenchcoat.

Dean fought against disappointment when he didn’t see Castiel. Instead, a short, blond man smirked at him from across the room. Dean couldn’t place where he had seen him before, but he looked familiar. The man stood, and Dean crossed the room to see what this stranger wanted.

“You’ve really fucked up, you know that?”

Dean nearly staggered back in surprise. What the hell kind of greeting was that?

“Excuse me?”

Dean admitted that his response sound a little confrontational, but he figured it was acceptable, given the circumstances. The shorter man still had that shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’m Gabriel, Dean. Castiel’s big brother. He may have mentioned me?”

Dean remembered with start where he had seen the man before: that first day in the hospital, when he had met Cas. This was the brother that Cas talked about most, the one he seemed to get along with best, the one who’s restaurant they had gone to on their first date. And of course it registered that Gabriel had taken care to introduce himself as Castiel’s _older_ brother. Dean knew that as an older brother, it was his responsibility to make sure that his younger brother wasn’t dating a dick. It was a role Dean knew too well, and he’d be doing the same thing to Sam, but Sam actually had a good head on his shoulders and never dated deadbeats. It seemed that Dean was the deadbeat.

“Gabriel. Of course. What do you want?”

Gabriel’s smirk slipped into a frown, but Dean wasn’t going to feel to feel bad about his poor manners. Gabriel hadn’t even offered to shake his hand. It was obvious they weren’t going to be steadfast friends. Gabriel heaved and exasperated sigh.

“You’re being ridiculous. Just call Cas, okay?”

Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What? I thought you were here to warn me off your _little brother_.”

Gabriel fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.

“Look, I don’t usually get involved in Cas’s love life. But his moping has hit a high point, and it’s really bringing me down. I don’t know what happened between you, but I’m sure you fucked it up. Just apologize and make up already.”

Dean couldn’t process that all at once. Cas was moping? Over him? Dean had never really thought of himself as someone worth moping over. He even let the snide comment about it being Dean’s fault slide (it really was his fault, anyways). Dean wasn’t an idiot, he knew that Gabriel’s being here said something about how Cas was acting. He may not know Gabriel, but he knew older brother behavior. Gabriel was worried about his little brother, and seemed to think that Dean could make it better. Dean was inclined to disagree, but he also had to admit that he really missed Cas.

“You, uh, you think he’ll wanna talk to me?”

Goddamn, Dean sounded like he was back in middle school, getting a friend to talk to girls for him. Jesus, Cas brought out the insecure side in him.

“Yeah, I think he’ll totally write you love sonnet if you asked. It’s kind of gross, actually.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. Gabriel was a real asshole, but Dean actually kind of liked him. He was honest, at least.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll call him.”

“Well thank god. Oh, and Dean? You can also take this as the ‘break his heart I’ll break your leg’ speech. Cas really is the best brother I’ve got.”

With that, Gabriel turned on his heel and walked out the front doors of the hospital, pulling a candy bar out of his pocket on the way. Dean wasted no time in getting the hell out of there, peeling baby out of the garage at an alarming speed. He spent the majority of his drive home agonizing over what to say to Cas. He ended up chickening out and sending a text (shut up, Dean was entitled to be a coward occasionally). He figured it would be a pretty neutral message. Cas could choose to ignore it, and they’d go on as they were, not seeing each other.

He fired off the text when he was five minutes from his apartment, stuck at a red light.

_Can we talk? I’ll be home in 5, if you wanna come over_

Dean parked his baby in her usual spot, and climbed the three flights of stairs to reach his front door. Castiel was standing outside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his damned trench coat. Dean froze, his foot still on the top step, and stared. Castiel didn’t exactly have superior observation skills, and thus it took several minutes before he noticed Dean.

“Dean.”

Cas took a half-step towards him, before seeming to think better of it and aborted the motion. Dean continued to stare, because he had just sent that text, and he knew there was no way in hell that Cas could have gotten here so quickly from his house or the university he worked at.

“I wanted to talk. I just received your text. I assume it’s okay to come in?”

Dean swallowed around the sudden emotion that was stuck in his throat. Damn, it was good to see Cas again. Hear his voice. He nodded, pulling out his keys and letting them in to the apartment. Cas toed off his shoes by the front door – always the gentleman – and stood there awkwardly.

“Well, if we’re gonna talk about our feelings and shit,” Dean murmured “then I’m gonna need some beer.”

Dean grabbed two bottles from the kitchen and pushed one on Cas on his way to the couch. Dean popped the cap off on the edge of his shitty coffee table and promptly tossed back a mouthful. After a moment of deliberation, Can joined him on the couch, mimicking his motions to pop the cap off his beer. Dean’s couch was too damn small for two grown men, and their thighs pressed together, making it really freaking hard for Dean to concentrate.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized my offer would be met unfavorably.”

Dean set his beer on the coffee table and rubbed his palms across his eyes. This shit just would not do.

“Cas, stop. I was a total dick. You don’t need to apologize. Jesus, I’ve just got so many fucking issues, okay? And I don’t know why you’d wanna bother to stick it out with me. I’d love to say I’ll never freak out like that again, but that’s a lie.”

Dean looked to Cas, trying to let him see that he meant it. Cas was close, so close on this too damn small couch.

“You don’t think you deserve this.”

Cas’s voice took on a nearly awed infliction, truly confused. Dean squirmed, and didn’t answer.

“Oh, Dean. You really believe that.”

“Look, Cas, I’m not some saint, okay? I get angry and – “

Dean’s words were choked off when Cas hastily pressed forward and slotted his lips over Dean’s. It was sudden, and soft, and not at all what Dean had expected.

“Weather you deserve it or not, Dean Winchester, you have me. And I expect you to try harder to keep me.”

Cas whispered against Dean’s mouth, and Dean shattered. Cas knew exactly what Dean needed to hear. He didn’t try to prove Dean’s worth to himself, only challenged him to do better. Dean could rise to that challenge, knew that he would. He knew he’d fuck up again, somewhere down the road, but Cas wouldn’t let him back out and take the easy route. Cas would push him, and Dean would push back, and somehow, they’d make this thing work.

They sat on Dean’s stupid small couch, brows pressed together, and Dean allowed himself to be happy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter - complete smut! Bit of a medical kink here, but it's pretty mild. Thank you so much reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Dean tugged the tight latex over his hand and let the edge of the glove smack against his wrist with an exaggerated snap. He winced at the noise, seemingly thunderous in the quiet room. He heard Cas's breath catch at the sound. Cas was facing away from him, his hands splayed on the desk, already leaning slightly over it, pushing his ass outward, towards Dean. Dean swallowed around a lump of nervousness in his throat. Two years was a long time to being fucking the same person, as he and Cas had been doing. Cas had suggested trying something new, to 'keep it interesting'.  Now, Dean's wasn't a prude, not by any standard, but role-play was definitely new.

"Like this, Doctor?"

Dear god, was Cas gonna call him doctor the whole time? Dean couldn't tell if the thought disturbed him or turned him on. He was feeling bits of both.

"Lean on your elbows, Mr. Novak, and bend your knees a bit."

Cas did as he was instructed, and his round ass pushed further out, parting the folds of the surgical gown Dean had "borrowed" from the hospital. Not like anyone would miss it. Dean still didn't move towards Cas, and just surveyed him, bent awkwardly over the desk. They had decided on trying out this little foray into the unknown in the study, as it most resembled a doctor's office. Dean had suggested actually sneaking into the hospital (who didn't get off on a little potential voyeurism?), but Cas shut that idea down real quick. He didn't just want to fuck in a storage room somewhere. He wanted the whole damn experience.

Which left Dean with gloved hands and a bottle of lube and no goddamn idea what he was doing. Cas turned his head to look back at him, a question knitted into his brows.

"Dean?"

Dean moved forward, quickly setting aside his uneasiness. This was for Cas. With all that the other man had put up with (and continues to), Dean can do this.

"I'm just going to check the area around the anus before beginning the examination."

Goddamn, it took a lot of resolve not to break at the word "anus". Dean may have finally been on his way to becoming a doctor (on his own dime, thank you very much), but  it was still hard to say that shit with a straight face. Especially to Cas. Especially to Cas while he was pretending to be a patient getting a prostate exam. Dean squatted down to be at eye level with Cas's ass and resisted the urge to lean out and bite at the fleshy globe of a cheek.

Instead, Dean gently parted Cas's cheeks to reveal the tight pink hole between. He knew the mechanics of getting a prostate exam (one hell of a fun experience) and still didn't see how this could be exciting for Cas. Also, getting an exam didn't mean Dean knew how to give one. This was not what he was getting into medicine for, thanks. Still, he knew the basics, and figured Cas would let him get away with straying from the rules, considering they were planning on having orgasms at some point during this. Dean didn't have much experience, but he was relatively sure that orgasms were not usually included in the rectal exam package. So a little deviation wouldn't be unwelcome, he told himself as he brushed a thumb lightly across the puckered entrance. He saw a shiver creep down Cas's spine, and the skin under his thumb twitched.

Dean pulled back his other hand and found the bottle of medical lubricant at his feet. He twisted the cap off one handed and moved to lubricate the index finger of the hand still grasping at Cas.

"Right now I'm checking for any bumps or unusual rashes, Mr. Novak."

Doctors did that, right? Kept up a running commentary of every damn thing they did while they had their appendages in your body? Dean was briefly grateful that he was planning on becoming a surgeon. He wouldn't have to talk to patients when they were knocked out on a surgical bed. Cas didn't respond, though Dean hadn't expected him to. After Dean had enough lube on three of his fingers (he liked to plan ahead), he pressed the tip of his index finger to Cas's hole.

"Now I am going to insert my finger and find your prostate. I need you to try and relax."

Dean could see Cas trying to force his muscles to go slack, even as his cock swelled. Dean pushed the tip of his finger in and watched Cas's dick as it swayed to a full erection. He spared a brief thought at wondering if Cas always got hard during examinations like this, or if it was because of Dean. Either way, Dean still didn't see the appeal. He pushed his finger forward, past the initial tight ring and let it slide in to the second knuckle.

_Fuck_ Cas was tight. He always was, and Dean had yet to not be surprised by just how tight and hot Cas was. Dean gently rotated his finger, crooking just slightly, to find the spot he was looking for. He knew he had found it when Cas gave a breathy huff, thrusting his hips back ever so slightly. Well, Dean couldn't  let that go, now could he?

"Please, Mr. Novak, I need you to hold as still as possible."

Cas stilled his entire body instantly, and the muscle around Dean's finger contracted, gripping him even tighter.

"Yes, doctor. My apologies."

Dean flushed at the use of "doctor" (looked like he was gonna get off on that, at least), and started to gently stroke his finger against Cas's prostate. Cas's breathing sped up, but other than that, he remained perfectly still. Dean watched his finger twisting inside of Cas and started to feel the first waves of arousal pierce through his nervousness. After a full minute, he withdrew his finger. Cas made as if to stand up, but Dean quickly stilled him with his other hand on the small of his back.

"Not done yet. Elbows on the table, please."

Cas did as he was bid, and Dean quickly slipped in two fingers, finding his prostate quickly and rubbing in small circles with his fingertips. Cas sucked in a tight breath.

"Is this a normal part of the procedure, doctor?"

Dean bit on his lip and twisted his fingers sharply. He was gratified when Cas gasped and rose up onto his tiptoes, before falling back down to push Dean's fingers further into his body.

"Of course. I need to observe your body's reaction to multiple stimuli on your prostate."

It sounded like complete bullshit (which it was), and Dean almost laughed at how ridiculous it was. But Cas just spread his legs wider and gave a shaky nod of his head. Dean pressed both fingers into Cas, rolling and stroking and when Cas's legs gave a minute shake, he pressed in his third finger and started to thrust slowly, making sure to brush against the sensitive prostate each time.

"Just checking your anal passage, Mr. Novak. It's important for your sexual health to make sure that you can stretch wide without too much discomfort."

Dean's eyes were glued to where he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of Cas's body. His own erection strained against the front of his scrub pants.

"Is it appropriate for you to comment on my sexual well-being?"

Dean smirked,  hearing Cas's breath catch. He didn't slow his fingers, and the gloves squelched in combination with the lube.

"Am I making you uncomfortable? This is all standard procedure. I can end the examination early if you want."

Cas pushed back, despite Dean's hand still resting on his lower back.

"No, go ahead. I'd like to finish the examination."

Dean's tongue darted out to wet his lips. He started pumping his digits faster in and out of Cas's hole, watching the swollen skin around the rim turning pink. He stopped trying to hit Cas's prostate every time, instead just focusing on stretching him as much as he could. He took his hand off of Cas's back and fumbled with the drawstring on his scrubs. He hastily pushed the fabric down, just enough to pull out his now hard cock.

Dean pulled his hands away from Cas long enough to rip open the condom packet at his feet. He rolled the condom on and quickly stood, pushing himself into Cas without warning.

"Ah!"

Cas gave a yelp of surprise as Dean surged forward, pushing Cas's shoulders down so that he was fully bent over the desk.

"Doctor, what - "

Dean ground his hips into Cas, rubbing the head of his cock against Cas's prostate, cutting off his protests.

"Your response to digital stimuli seems normal - " Dean bit out as he continued to roll his hips, "but I need to see if penile stimuli provides a different response."

_Holy fuck_ , were those words really coming out of his mouth? He sounded fucking ridiculous. But Cas let out a small moan and dropped his forehead to the desk, letting Dean have full reign. Dean fucking _loved_ topping Cas. It wasn't a common occurrence, because as it turns out, Dean loved bottoming for Cas even more. But during the times that Cas gave up his carefully constructed control, he did so completely. Dean couldn't say he was as much of a selfless bottom - he was needy and difficult no matter how Cas took him. Castiel knew how to take it passively, just letting Dean have his way.

Dean started pushing into Cas with small thrusts, gripping Cas's hips with gloved hands and pulling him on to his tiptoes so he could rub against Cas's prostate with each stroke. He choked back his own desire to slam into Cas wildly, and instead focused on the tight warmth gripping him as he slowly pumped into Cas's body. Cas was making noises now, small, aborted moans he just didn't seem able to hold back. Dean's fingers gripped tighter at his hips, the surgical gown flapping open to reveal Cas's lower back.

"Unh... I need...please, touch me."

Dean didn't slow his pace, but pressed forward to cover Cas's hands with his own, preventing him from touching himself.

"I need to see if you can ejaculate from prostate stimulation alone, Mr. Novak."

Dean grinds this out, mouth pressed close to Cas's ear, still pumping his hips furtively. Cas had managed come without a hand on his dick a few times in the past, but it was never an easy achievement. But as Cas lets out a low moan, Dean thinks he'll be able to pull it off this time. Dean's been teasing his prostate for while, and he doesn't think it'll take much more. He stays in that position, with his chest pressed tightly to Cas's back, the heat of his body seeping through his scrubs, and slams into Cas. Dean felt a growing pressure in his balls, the first hints of his pending orgasm, but he bit back on the feeling.

Cas was tight and pliant and making beautiful little gasping hiccups as Dean pushed into him. Dean kept a steady pace, rolling his hips every few strokes to make sure Cas's prostate was getting the attention it deserved.

"Tell me, Cas. Tell me you can."

Cas sucked in a gasping breath and his fingers curled into his palms on the surface of the desk.

"Yes. Just...uh! Harder."

Dean complied, abandoning any pretense of finesse and just pounding into Cas. Cas's lithe body slid forward on the desk from the force of Dean's thrust and Dean bit down on the back of Cas's exposed neck. Cas cried out, his muscles tensing, the passage around Dean growing even more impossibly tight. Cas shivered through a stunning climax, clenching around Dean, who continued to fuck in to him. When Cas went boneless beneath him, Dean pulled out and rolled him over. Cas immediately pulled his knees up to his chest, wearing a blissed out smile.

Grasping at Cas's hips with his still gloved hands, Dean thrust himself back into Cas's body quickly, chasing his own release.

"Come on, doctor, I want to watch you come."

God _fucking_ dammit Cas knew what his dirty talk did to him. Dean pumped his hips a few more times as bright white exploded behind his eyes and a string of curses fell from his mouth. He rode out his orgasm, still buried in Cas and let his cock twitch out every stream of cum he had in him.  Cas smiled up at him while Dean pulled himself out and stripped off the used condom.

"Dean, thank you. I know this isn't - "

"I think we'll need to check your refractory period next, Mr. Novak."

Dean could really get used to being called doctor.


End file.
